Bething's Folly by Bárbara Metzger

pet, you know, supper and all. Sent me to find you, in no uncertain terms.” He came farther into the room and saw Miss Bethingame, who was suddenly on her feet, her fists clenched and her eyes flashing sparks. Ferddie slowly raised his quizzing glass, not looking at Carleton at all or noting his frantic signals. “Trust you to find the needle in the haystack, Carleton,” he finally drawled. Then, as the circumstances dawned on him—the closed door, Carleton not down to supper—a frown of doubt appeared on his forehead and he forgot the affected manner of speech. “You know, it’s not at all the thing for you to be here like this, if you don’t mind me saying so. I can’t think it’s—”
    “No, it is not at all the thing for me to be here with such a deceitful, despicable, d-d-dastardly cur like you!” the girl finally sputtered at Carleton. Then, to Ferddie, “Good evening, sir.”
    Ferddie’s mouth hung open and his glass dropped to the end of its ribbon, but he had sense enough to open the door for the lady before she kicked it down, as she looked very tempted to do. He put his hand on Carleton’s shoulder as the Marquis would have gone after her.
    “No, Carleton, I don’t know what went on in here—and I don’t want to, either—but unless you mean to offer for the chit, you’d best not be seen leaving here with her.”
    “Right, Ferddie, and I congratulate you on your wisdom! What did you think of her?”
    “She seemed to have a deal of, um, spirit,” Ferddie answered uncertainly.
    “Yes, like a regular she-cat, or kitten.”
    Ferddie looked closely at his friend’s smile to find the usual sarcasm, but there was none. He decided it would be best to keep his thoughts to himself until he saw which way the wind blew; but for a change it was Milbrooke who wore the know-it-all expression and Carleton who had a friendly smile when they left the library together some few minutes later.
    The Duchess was standing near the ballroom door with some friends when they entered. She sent an I’ll-speak-to-you-later look toward her son and pointedly asked if he had found what he was looking for in the library.
    “Yes, your Grace,” he answered pleasantly, “I believe I have found it now.”
    The Duchess raised her eyebrows but asked no further questions. She turned to present a Miss Winston to him—and to Ferddie, whose wrist was somehow curiously caught in the Marquis’s grip. They made their bows and, the grip tightening until realisation came, Ferddie asked the young lady to dance. Miss Winston was relieved, for like most of the other debutantes, she found the Marquis’s chiseled features and cold blue eyes intimidating, while Ferddie’s ruddy good looks were much more comfortable. Miss Winston’s mother was annoyed. The Duchess was neither dismayed nor disappointed to see her son walk off, scanning the room. She was only extremely curious, as was almost every other pair of eyes in the entire ballroom.
    Carleton realised that he was the object of a great deal of speculation, but there was no help for it. He also realised it would not enhance his apology to Miss Bethingame to draw so much unwelcome attention, just what she particularly wished to avoid. He was not about to let her disappear before he could make amends, however. He had had a glimpse of something precious and knew he mustn’t lose it. There she was now, he saw, a glimmer of bright yellow in a far corner, sitting behind an enormous dowager in purple satin with an ostrich headdress. Somewhere on his way across the endless-seeming room, Miss Bethingame became aware of his approach. A hanky in her hand was suffering sadly, and her colouring suddenly lost its rosy glow, betraying her; but her eyes were fixed on the floor, almost the only ones in the room not on Carleton, which brought a smile back to his lips. How fierce she looked, he thought, and how exquisite, under all the lights of the ballroom where he could really appreciate her clear